


Hook, Line, and Sinker

by thehatofaprincess



Series: You're Stuck in my Veins [1]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: F/M, M/M, Original Female Character - Freeform, Parent AU, lawyer AU, transgender AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-29 02:13:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3878464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thehatofaprincess/pseuds/thehatofaprincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"i’m the lawyer helping you get custody of your daughter and oops you’re all kinds of adorable with her and also i think she’s growing attached to me is this good or bad"</p><p>Or, the one in which Ronan is very cute with his daughter and Adam doesn't know how to handle it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hook, Line, and Sinker

**Author's Note:**

> Note: Ronan doesn’t have his usual sharpness because being a dad has softened him. Sorry ‘bout it.
> 
> Also, I hope you like this.

**_Hook, Line, and Sinker_ **

Adam Parrish was a lawyer, and a damn good one, too. He was well-versed in most of the different kinds of law, and thus could handle any case that was thrown at him. It had been three years since he’d graduated law school, and he hadn’t lost a case yet.

In other words, Adam Parrish was a rockstar.

Adam Parrish was at his desk typing up a report on the last case he’d worked on--a hook, line, and sinker DUI case he could have prosecuted in his sleep--when a manilla envelope was dropped on his desk. He looked up to see his boss, Dean Allen, wearing a small smile. This made Adam slightly nervous. Allen never smiled. Ever. Adam picked up the envelope gingerly. “What is it?”

“Your next case, Parrish. A father wants custody of his daughter.”

Adam raised an eyebrow. “All due respect, sir, but shouldn’t Cheng handle this case, then?”

Allen raised a single finger. “Her other father wants to maintain custody.”

Adam was intrigued. “Is she biologically related to either of them?”

“Both.” Allen smiled again. “Have fun, Parrish.” He tapped on Adam’s desk. “Our client, Mr. Lynch, will be paying us handsomely to get him custody of his daughter. Be sure to win, okay?”

“I’ll try my best, sir.” Adam sighed. If this Lynch guy wasn’t fit to be a parent, there wasn’t much he would be able to do. He eyed the manilla envelope and turned back to his computer. He would type his report and then get to work on the Lynch case during his lunch break.

* * *

Adam sat down at the kitchen table across from his roommates, a private detective by the name of Richard Gansey III and a social worker called Noah Czerny, and began spreading his newest case out on his side, taking notes on a yellow legal pad in red pen. Gansey nudged a small pot containing a mint plant toward Adam. Adam gratefully took a leaf and stuck it in his mouth.

“What are you working on, Adam?” Noah asked, not looking up from his composition notebook. His pen was black.

“New case,” Adam replied. “Dad wants custody of his daughter. Other dad wants to keep custody. It’s a little messy.”

Gansey tapped his lip with his blue pen. “Which dad is related to her?”

Adam smiled at his paper. “They both are.”

Noah’s head shot up, his eyes wide. “Both of them?”

Adam nodded. He pushed a picture of a man with lovely cheekbones and blue eyes and a shaved head toward them. “Ronan Lynch, twenty-five. He was born Cao-” Adam paused and looked at Lynch’s birth name. “I have no idea how this name is pronounced, Noah. It’s Irish.”

“Spell it,” Noah said, his pen poised over a stray sticky note.

“C-A-O-I-M-H-E. Cah-oh-ihm-hee?” Adam tried, his eyebrows furrowed.

Noah flinched. “Please never do that again, Adam. It’s pronounced ‘Kee-vah.’ Caoimhe. It means gentle or precious.”

Adam stared at Noah for a moment. “Thank God for you, Noah.” He returned to his files. “Anyway, Ronan Lynch was born Caoimhe Lynch in ninety-seven in Ireland. He’s been a male, legally, since he turned eighteen in twenty-fifteen. He gave birth to this sweetheart,” he pushed a photograph of a little girl with curly black hair and big blue-grey eyes toward Gansey, “about four years ago here in DC. Her name is Kassandra Kavinsky.”

“‘Kavinsky?’” Gansey asked, comparing the photos with Noah.

Adam pushed another picture toward Gansey this time of a man with blond hair and grey-blue eyes. “Joseph Kavinsky. Kassandra’s other dad. According to the reports I have, he and Lynch were in a relationship and Lynch got pregnant. There’s a lot of conflicting reports, but one consistent thing is that Lynch didn’t know that he could, after having taken testosterone supplements for so long--” Adam consulted his notes, “er, for five years. Lynch decided to have Kassandra and Kavinsky was present at the birth--intoxicated, the hospital staff reported, but there--to sign as the father on the birth certificate.”

Gansey and Noah held the three photos together. “Continue.”

“Kassandra lived with Kavinsky and Lynch, who both had custody, for about a year. After that, Lynch moved her out of Kavinsky’s house and into an apartment in Richmond. Lynch wouldn’t let Kavinsky see his daughter, so Kavinsky sued for full custody and won on the basis of Lynch being transgender and therefore unfit to raise a child.” Adam shook his head.

“Ridiculous,” Noah said, an angry crease in his eyebrows.

Gansey sighed. “Oh, this is messy.”

Adam nodded. “Now, this all happened about three years ago. Lynch now has a source of steady income as the owner of a popular bookstore in Richmond, has all of his medical bills paid off now that his transition is complete, and is not able to have any other children. His life has been steady for the past year and he’s ready to get his daughter back permanently.”

Noah set the photos down and looked at Adam. “Has he been allowed to see his daughter at all?”

“Yes, for varying lengths of time that usually center around Kavinsky’s inability to hold down a job for more than six months. When he can’t afford to take care of Kassandra, he drops her off at Lynch’s house.” Adam sighed. “From what I gather, Kavinsky and his friends are involved in some unsavory activities that kids should not, under any circumstances, be raised around. Lynch has his life together and is a productive member of society, so the only issue is his being transgender, and since he’s fully transitioned, and has been for over a year, I should be able to convince the jury that he’s a fit parent regardless of gender. It should be fairly simple if the paperwork is telling me the truth. A win; hook, line, and sinker.”

“Sounds solid,” Gansey said, sliding the pictures back. “Can you guys help me with my case, now?”

Adam laughed. “What do you have?”

 

* * *

 

Adam got out of his car at the entrance to a park in a little town not far from Richmond. The park was small and it was easy to locate Ronan Lynch, who was standing next to a bench and talking to a pair of moms who looked absolutely delighted to see him. Lynch was wearing a black T-shirt and a pair of jeans with a hole in one of the back pockets. There was the tip of a tattoo peaking up from his collar. Leather bands looped around his wrists.

Adam was wearing a soft green dress shirt and a black tie with his jeans. He had his bag hanging from one shoulder across his body. He felt a little overdressed, a little fake, as he came to a halt next to his client. He was glad he decided to wear his jeans. He stood next to Lynch for a moment before speaking. “Mr. Lynch,” he started.

Lynch turned abruptly to face him, or, his chest, at least. Lynch was a good six inches shorter than Adam. His eyes flicked over Adam for a moment, taking in everything about him. “Please don’t take Kass away,” he said, deducing Adam’s occupation from his posture. “I know I’m technically not supposed to have her, but I can’t get ahold of Kavinsky. He’s avoiding my calls or something, and I’m not going to send her to an empty house. Just, let me--”

Adam rested a hand on Lynch’s arm. “Mr. Lynch, I’m not here to take your daughter away from you.” He reached into his pocket and handed Lynch a card. “I’m here on behalf of Allen, Greenmantle, and Whelk, to help you regain custody of your daughter. My name is Adam Parrish.”

Lynch looked at him again. “Thank you, Mr. Parrish.” He slipped Adam’s card in his back pocket--the one without the hole. “Should I grab Kass so we can talk?”

Adam consulted his watch. “It’s about lunchtime. We can talk over lunch, if you’d like.”

Lynch nodded. “Just let me go get Kass. I hope you don’t mind, but I promised to take her to her favorite place for lunch today.”

Adam smiled. “I don’t mind at all.”

Lynch nodded again and said his farewells to the mothers he’d been talking to. They wished him luck on regaining custody of Kassandra. He thanked them and walked onto the playground, catching Kassandra as she vaulted out of a swing at him. He spun her around before settling her on his hip. He walked back over to the bench and handed Kassandra to the brunette mom. “Say goodbye to Aunt Regan and Aunt Sophie, Kass.” She brightly did so and Lynch scooped her back into his arms.

Lynch returned to his spot next to Adam; Kassandra buried her face against his shoulder shyly when she noticed him. “Kass,” Lynch said gently, trying to coax her out of his shoulder. “This is Mr. Parrish. He’s going to help Papa make sure that we live together, okay?”

Kassandra regarded him suspiciously from the corner of her eye. “Is that true?” she asked, her speech surprisingly exact.

Adam nodded. “I’m certainly going to try.” To Lynch, he said, “From what I understand, this should be an easy case to win. I have the evidence to get your daughter back in your custody with minimal difficulty. Your case is what I like to call a ‘hook, line, and sinker.’”

Lynch looked relieved.

Kassandra withdrew her face from her father’s shoulder and looked at Adam more thoroughly, thinking about what he’d said. “Okay,” she said finally. “I believe you, Mr. Parrish.”

Adam smiled. “Good!”

“Oh Kass,” Lynch said fondly, rolling his eyes at her. “My silly little mouse, I could have told you he was telling the truth.”

Kassandra looked at her father very seriously. “I’m a leader, not a follower, remember? ‘Come to your own conclusions, Kass.’ That’s what you always say.”

“And you never ever let me forget it.” He smiled at her, “Are you hungry, little monster of mine?”

“Yes!” she said brightly. “I’m so hungry I could eat a dinosaur!”

Lynch looked surprised. “A _whole_ dinosaur?”

“A whole dinosaur,” she confirmed. “In one bite.”

Lynch laughed at her. “We better get some food in you before you start eating your arms, then, huh?”

“Quick!” she said, pretending to eat her finger. “The hunger is growing!”

Lynch smiled brightly at her, but pulled her finger out of her mouth. “No eating limbs until we wash our hands, alright?”

“Okay, Papa.” She wrapped her arms around her father’s neck.

He smiled apologetically at Adam, whose heart was expanding rapidly at the display. “If you follow me, I can show you the way to lunch.” He started walking toward his car, then. “Now, what have I told you about jumping off of the swing, Kassandra Rose?” he asked his daughter quietly as he and Adam headed toward the parking lot.

She sighed softly, as if she’d been expecting to be reprimanded. “That it’s dangerous and I shouldn’t jump off the swing.”

“And what did you do?”

“I jumped off the swing.”

“What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I’m sorry, Papa. I won’t do it again.”

“Promise?” He extended his pinkie toward her.

“I promise.” She curled her tiny pinkie around his larger one.

“Now, I’m going to hold you to that promise. Do you know why?”

“Because I’m a Lynch!” Kassandra said happily.

“And?”

“And Lynches never lie!”

“That’s right, baby.” Lynch ruffled his daughter’s hair. “Lynches never lie.”

* * *

Adam walked into the townhouse he shared with Gansey and Noah. He kicked off his shoes and dropped his bag next to the stairs. He walked into the living room and flopped onto the couch with a groan. He raked his fingers through his hair, messing it up wonderfully. He wrestled with his tie for a moment before winning and tossing it on the armchair to his right. He tossed his long, long legs up onto the coffee table and groaned again.

Noah drifted down the stairs and rescued Adam’s tie from the clutches of the armchair before sitting down with his knees tucked against his chest and looking toward the kitchen.

Gansey appeared in the doorway and exchanged a look and a nod with Noah before he disappeared back into the kitchen. He returned a minute later with three cans of beer and a box of cold leftover pizza. He handed a can to Noah as he passed the armchair. He dropped the box on Adam’s lap and opened one of the cans before giving it to Adam. He opened his own can and slumped onto the couch. He opened the pizza box on Adam’s lap and grabbed one of the slices from what was left of the avocado half and threw it at Noah, who caught it with his forearm.

Taking a bite of the pizza, Noah looked meaningfully at Adam.

“Do you want to tell us about it?” Gansey asked kindly.

Adam took a sip of his beer. “Thanks, Gansey.” Adam set his beer on the side table to his right. “It was kind of awesome, actually.”

Gansey raised an eyebrow. “Then why in the world were you being groany and slammish when you got home?”

“You don’t understand, Gansey,” Adam picked up a slice of the sausage half of the pizza. “He loves Kass so freaking much it hurts. I can’t believe that little girl ever got taken from him. She’s so happy with him. He’s an amazing freaking dad.” He took a bite of the pizza. “They’re so freaking cute.”

He took another bite. “Like, I walk up behind this guy--who looks like a massive fucking boxer-type from far away, mind you--with a shaved head and muscles like no one’s business, in a tight ass black T-Shirt with just a little tattoo showing and a pair of faded jeans and classic Converse. Imagine it.” He glanced at Gansey, then at Noah. “Are you imagining it?”

“Yes, Adam. I’m imagining it,” they said as one.

“So, I walk up behind this guy, and he’s talking to this pair of urban, upper middle class moms. And they’re enjoying themselves, laughing and smiling with this super intimidating-looking dad. I stand next to him and say his name, and, oh my God, Noah, he’s so tiny. He’s like, half a foot shorter than me. Gansey, he’s shorter than Noah.”

“Hey,” Noah protested

“And his shirt has the logo of his bookstore on it. The logo for his bookstore is a kitten sitting on a stack of books and the name of his bookstore?” Adam paused. “Wait for it.” He paused again, before emphatically whispering, “ _Kass’s Bookshelf_. He named his bookstore after his daughter.”

Adam sighed. “This case is going to be a cinch. I’m going to win, hook, line, and sinker. This man will get his daughter back if it kills me, Gansey. I swear to you.”

Gansey nodded. “I’m sure you will.”

Noah sat up and leaned toward Adam. “Tell me more.”

“Their eyes are so blue, guys.”

* * *

Adam set down his plastic cup of tea. “Thank you for the tea, Lady Kassandra. If you don’t mind, I’m going to have a word with your father and take my leave today.”

“Oh, it’s such a shame to see you go, Lord Adam. Alas, I shall see you later this week?” She smiled up at him.

“Undoubtedly, milady.” Adam stood to take his leave, but a hand on his pants made him pause.

Kassandra reached up for him. He picked her up and she wrapped her arms around his neck. She kissed him gently on the cheek, a shyness in the gesture he hadn’t seen since he met her. “I couldn’t let you leave without a good luck kiss on the cheek, Lord Adam,” she said softly. “You have to stay safe out in the wilderness.”

Ronan Lynch’s daughter was going to cause his death. He kissed her on the top of the head. “Thank you, Lady Kassandra. I shall cherish the cheek kiss of luck until--”

“Until next time you see me, Lord Adam, when the spell must be renewed.” She said with a grin.

“Until then, milady.” He set her down and bowed to her. “It was my pleasure to attend tea with you.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Lord Adam.” She laughed, beautifully, like the jingle of wind chimes. She began to clean up her plastic tea set.

Adam walked down the stairs of the Lynch townhouse and into the kitchen, where Lynch was talking to his best friend and neighbor, Blue Sargent. Her dark hair was up in a short ponytail, brightly colored clips holding loose hairs to her head. They stopped talking and looked at Adam when he walked into the room.

Lynch’s mouth tipped up, almost involuntarily. “Kass didn’t break you or scar you for life, did she?”

“No, not at all,” Adam said, a smile painting his features. “The Lady Kassandra and I had a very lovely tea and she even provided me a protection spell until I return.” Adam stuck his hands in his pockets. “She’s a lovely girl. I’ll sort through some things and be back in a couple of days.”

Lynch nodded. “See you, then, Mr. Parrish.”

“Please, Mr. Lynch, call me Adam. It feels a bit silly to be so formal when we see each other three times a week.”

“Then call me Ronan,” Lynch--Ronan said with a smirk gracing his mouth. “Since it’s silly to be formal.” Ronan’s smirk grew into a grin, showing off a row of perfect white teeth. “Besides, Mr. Lynch is my older brother.”

Blue kicked Ronan under the table. “You’re such a loser. Who _says_ that?”

“I do,” Ronan said, rubbing his leg. “You rude little piece of--”

Adam squinted at the side of Blue’s face. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

Blue looked at Adam. “No, I don’t think so. And, if that’s a pick up line, you need some new material and to use it on someone else.”

Adam blushed a particular shade of pink that was native only to his face. “No, no, no, no. Sorry. That-that isn’t what I meant. I just thought I saw your face somewhere.... Ah, I’m gonna go. I’ll be back later this week.” Adam picked his briefcase up from the floor and slipped on his shoes quickly.

Before Adam left the house, he heard Ronan say, “Oh, my God, Blue, you just scared off my lawyer.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Adam went and sat in his Honda for a moment before picking up his phone. _That_ was were he had seen Blue Sargent before. “Gansey,” he said, pulling out of Ronan’s driveway. “I think I just found a development in your missing persons case.”

* * *

Adam woke up that morning to the sounds of loud but strangely elegant cursing from his kitchen. He rose from his bed, wearing a gray v-neck and his boxers and walked down the carpeted stairs. He stopped in the doorway of the kitchen, where the carpet turned into hardwood, peering over the top of Noah’s head. Gansey was stuffing a towel into the broken spout that was once their sink’s faucet.

Adam ran his hands over his face and through his hair. “Oh my God, Richard Campbell Gansey the Third.” He linked his fingers, cupping the back of his head. “How on God’s green earth did you manage to break our spout?”

“I just...!” Gansey sighed. “I just tried to swivel the faucet. I just moved it and it just broke.” He turned to look at Adam, his pajamas covered in water. “I was trying to make coffee.”

“My God.” Adam sighed. “Let me put on a pair of pants and I’ll call a guy to fix our plumbing, then another guy to see if our floors need replacing, and if they do, I’ll call yet another guy.”

Adam sighed, sitting in his car. He had called people, and more people, and more people. Their kitchen was being torn up. Their plumbing was being redone through the whole townhouse. Their carpet was being redone. They were finally replacing their twenty-year-old fridge. They were even replacing their windows.

In other words, Gansey was sparing no expense.

This meant that Adam needed somewhere to stay, and all of the renovations Gansey had planned cost _money_. Adam couldn’t afford to stay at a hotel for a month while their home was being torn up and put together again, not when he wasn’t getting his next paycheck until after the Lynch case was closed. Not when flooring and manpower were so expensive.

Gansey had offered to get a double room at his usual hotel and have Adam stay with him for the month, on Gansey. He had declined Gansey’s offer. Adam still wasn’t good at accepting Gansey’s charity-- _help_ , Adam reminded himself, Gansey didn’t pity him--even if they’d been best friends since they’d roomed together at Georgetown freshman year.

Adam was parked outside of a gas station and there was a bag of clothes and a box of files in his backseat. There were more files in the trunk. He was eating a slice of chocolate-covered cheesecake that he really didn’t need, but was entirely worth paying three dollars for. He ate the last bite of cheesecake and dropped the plastic container back in the plastic bag.

He scrolled through his phone, trying to figure out where he was going to stay. His eyes lingered over Lynch’s name in his phone. It was unprofessional, but it would make creating a solid case for them easier. He clicked on Lynch’s name. “Hey, Ronan? It’s Adam. Could I ask you a favor?”

Adam pulled up outside of the Lynch’s townhouse half an hour later. He grabbed his bag of clothes and box of files. He supported the box with his left hip and knocked on Ronan’s door with his right hand.

The door opened to reveal a halfway-smiling Ronan Lynch covered in pink paint. “Hey, Adam. Come on in. Ah,” he chuckled. “I hope you don’t mind getting pink paint on your pants or painting tiny princesses on paper plates.”

“Are you kidding?” Adam asked, stepping into Ronan’s house. “Painting tiny princesses on paper plates is my favorite hobby.” He took off his shoes and set them on the rug by the door. “Thank you for this, by the way,” Adam said quietly. “I don’t normally do things like this, but one of my roommates decided to flood our kitchen and then contract people to tear apart our house.” Adam rolled his eyes fondly.

“Hey,” Ronan said, clapping Adam on the arm. “Don’t worry about it. You’re helping me get my daughter back. This is the least I can do.” Ronan tugged on Adam’s sleeve. “The guest room is the third door on the right upstairs. Get settled and put on a shirt you can part with, or take one of my old ones. First door, third drawer, very bottom. Kass is going to want you to paint with her.”

Adam smiled. “Sure thing, Ronan. Thanks again.”

Ronan clapped Adam on the shoulder. “Hey Kass,” he said, walking toward the kitchen. “I have a surprise for you!”

* * *

Adam Parrish woke up at four in the morning in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room. He stared at the ceiling, studded with plastic glow-in-the-dark stars and painted with speckles of light that peaked through the lace curtains. He let out a sigh and relaxed his muscles. He was okay.

Adam heard little feet walk past his door. Pause. Keep moving, walk into the room next door to his. He heard the shifting of fabric. Whispers. Movement. A soft groan and the squeak of Ronan’s bed. More fabric. A soft squeal and even softer hushing. The sound of larger feet walking around on Ronan’s hardwood.

Very quietly, Adam heard Ronan start to sing. “ _If you only knew/I'm hanging by a thread/the web I spin for you._ ” A pause, a soft giggle. “ _If you only knew/I'd sacrifice my beating heart/before I lose you. I still hold onto the letters/you returned. I swear I've lived and learned_.” Ronan whispered, “You know this part, don’t you, Sweetie? Yes, that’s right. Look at the clock, now.” Ronan returned to the lullaby, “ _It's four-oh-three and I can't sleep. Without you next to me/I toss and turn like the sea. If I drown tonight/bring me back to life/breathe your breath in me. The only thing that I still believe in is you. If you only knew_.”

“I know, Papa.”

“I know you do, Kass.” There was a pause, long enough for Ronan to have kissed the top of her head. “ _If you only knew/how many times I counted/all the words that went wrong. If you only knew/how I refuse to let you go/even when you're gone. I don't regret any days I spent/nights we shared, or letters that I sent_.”

Ronan repeated the chorus. “ _If you only knew/I still hold onto the letters you returned. You help me live and learn_.” His singing got quieter, but it was still loud enough for Adam to hear. “ _It's four-oh-three and I can't sleep. Without you next to me/I toss and turn like the sea. If I drown tonight/bring me back to life/breathe your breath in me. The only thing that I still believe in is you. If you only knew_.”

Adam heard Ronan pass his room, still humming. Adam stood up and pulled on a pair of sweats. He reached into his bag and pulled out his violin. He set it on the bed next to him and picked up the laptop that had been hiding under it and his headphones. “Goodnight, Sweetie,” he heard Ronan say, before Ronan passed by his room again and he heard the creaking of bedsprings.

Adam stuck the headphones in his ears and plugged them into the side of his laptop. He typed in a few words and pressed play on the first video that popped up, trying to ignore the feeling that the Lynch family was going to reel _him_ in, hook, line, and sinker.

* * *

Ronan groaned and pulled himself off of his bed. He glanced at his clock. It was a little past six in the morning. “God damn,” he muttered to himself. He cracked his neck and fixed his muscle shirt. He scratched the back of his head and walked down the hall to check on Kassandra. She was still sleeping in her bed.

He smiled at her softly and walked down the stairs. He smelled coffee. He walked into the kitchen to find Adam Parrish standing at his counter, bent over something, there was a pan melting a dollop of butter on the stove, an upside down coffee mug in front of his Mr. Coffee machine, and a violin along with a bow on the table. “Is this your violin, Adam?”

Adam spun around, mixing eggs in a glass bowl with a fork. “What? Oh. Yeah. That’s Reginald. I bought him when I learned to play violin in college. The bow’s name is Suzanne. I affectionately call her Suzie. My roommate--not the one who flooded my kitchen, the other one--bought her for me when he stepped on the one that came with Reginald and broke it.” Adam paused, looked confused. “I don’t know why I told you all of that.”

Ronan laughed. “You’re getting too comfortable with me, Parrish.” He poured coffee into his mug.

“Probably true.” Adam poured the eggs from the bowl into the pan. “There are pancakes in the microwave, and I fed your parakeet.”

Ronan closed the door of the fridge and looked at Adam, his eyebrows furrowed. “You fed Chainsaw? She let you feed her?”

“Yes.” Adam started to scramble the eggs. “You named your adorable, _baby blue_ parakeet _Chainsaw_?”

“Actually, Kass did. Don’t ask me why.” Adam nodded, making an affirmative noise. _Kavinsky_ , went unsaid between them. Ronan came to stand next to Adam, leaning his lower back against the counter. “You made pancakes?”

“I figured you wouldn’t mind.”

“I don’t. It’s just... you’re making us breakfast.” Ronan’s eyes flicked over Adam’s face.

“Should I... not do that anymore?”

“No. No, it’s not a big deal. Just. Unexpected.” Ronan set his coffee on the counter next to him. “It’s nice.” Ronan crossed his arms.

Adam leveled a steady gaze at Ronan. “Question.” He smiled. “Do you always use hard rock ballads as lullabies for your four-year-old?”

Ronan snorted. “Sometimes it’s softcore metal, Parrish.” Seriously, Ronan said, “Acoustic covers of rock music soothe the my daughter’s soul and prepare her body for deep slumber.” He grinned wickedly. “Also, she’s a girl after her father’s heart; her favorite lullabies are Shinedown tunes.”

“Y’know,” Adam said, “when I saw your picture in my case file, I was not expecting a well-adjusted domestic dad. I was sort of expecting... I don’t know. A biker-type, maybe?” Adam shook his head. “Whatever it was, it fit with the metalhead lullabies better than a man who lets his daughter paint his nails pink.”

“Hey,” Ronan protested. “Pink is a manly fucking color.” He grinned. “But, yeah. I settled down really fast in my last undergrad year of college, after I found out I was pregnant with Kass. I wanted to be someone she would be proud of.”

Ronan shrugged. “To do that, I gave up my rockstar lifestyle--y'know, screaming until my voice gave out, rivers of booze and hangover shores, the awkward and constant boobs in my face, Kavinsky’s vomit on my shoes, walking in on Skov and Swan making out in various bathrooms, Jiang going to jail, Prokopenko constantly wanting to suck Kavinsky off, driving the loud and often stoned Dreampack to Taco Bell at midnight,” Ronan snorted fondly, “all that glamorous stuff--for one of calm and stability. I swapped Satanism for Buddhism, you feel?”

Ronan ran a hand over his shaved head. “But, some stuff still spills over. You can change your behavior, but not your taste in music, y’know?”

Adam nodded. “I can get behind that.”

“A complete one-seventy.” Ronan sipped at his coffee and smirked. “I’m even finishing up my doctorate thesis this year.”

“Really?” Adam turned to look at Ronan. “What’s your area of study?”

“Ah, gender and sexuality. My final thesis is on damaging effects that gender roles and the media have on children.” Ronan stirred his coffee. “My professor says that as soon I get my degree, I’ll be considered one of the foremost experts on gender and sexuality in practice.” Ronan looked mildly uncomfortable, like he’d said too much.

Adam searched in his head for something witty to say. “And also early two thousands hard rock?” He smiled.

Ronan barked. “Yes, that too. I am a master of the hardcore.”

“I believe that.” Adam pulled three plates from a cabinet. “No, but that’s really awesome, Ronan. Kass will be so proud of you. Shit, man” he said, setting the plates down. “ _I’m_ proud of you, and I’ve known you for a month and a half.”

Ronan grinned. His mouth was predatory. “Thanks, Parrish.”

Adam looked at Ronan. “What does Kass like on her pancakes?”

“Nutella.” He patted Adam on the shoulder. “I’ll go wake her up for breakfast.” He started to walk toward the stairs.

“Oh, and Parrish?” Ronan called from the third stair.

Adam emerged from the kitchen with a pan of eggs in his hand. “Yes?”

Ronan grinned. “We expect a concert after breakfast.”

* * *

Adam woke up tense, to the sight of his ceiling. In his room. At his, Noah’s, and Gansey’s townhouse. His vision was shifting and blurry. Gansey was shaking the living shit out of his leg. “What. The. Fuck. Gansey?” He sat up.

“Jane is on the phone for you.”

Adam’s eyebrows came together. “Who the fluttering heck is--” Jane Doe. What Gansey had been calling Blue before he figured out her name. “Why is Blue calling me? Give me the phone.” Gansey handed Adam their handset. “Hello? Blue?”

“Adam,” Blue’s voice came through his phone, sounding alarmed, “Ronan is crying on my kitchen floor. You need to get over here right now.”

“What-what?” Adam asked, haltingly.

“Adam Parrish,” Blue said, her voice hard and flat, “Ronan Lynch is flooding my kitchen with his tears. You are the only one who can handle this, so get your ass over here right now.”

“Why do you think I’m going to be able to handle it?”

“Because, you absolute fucking _walnut_ , he keeps asking for you.”

Something inside Adam snapped. Or slotted into place. He wasn’t sure which. He stood up and grabbed the first pair of jeans he saw. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Get him a cup of chamomile tea with two teaspoons of sugar and one of Kassandra’s blankets.”

“Okay. And Adam? Hurry.”

Adam hung up the phone and threw it at Gansey. He pulled on the pants and a belt with frightening speed. He ran into his closet.

“Adam?” Gansey asked, his voice like honey. “What was that about?”

Adam emerged wearing a grey T-shirt and a blue, purple, and pink flannel. “Ronan needs my help, Gansey.”

Gansey drove for the express reason of making sure that Adam didn’t get pulled over. As it was, Adam’s left leg was going to punch a hole in the floor of The Pig and he was going to run out of fingernails if they didn’t get to Blue’s townhouse soon. Gansey turned left.

As soon as The Pig’s tires hit Blue’s driveway, Adam threw himself out of the car. He adjusted his flannel and he walked, very quickly and professionally, up to Blue’s front door and knocked once before the door was thrown open and he was tugged inside by a very tiny Asian woman.

Gansey killed the engine and raced inside after them. He walked in behind Blue to find Adam sitting next to the man he recognized from Adam’s case file photographs to be Ronan Lynch. Adam’s hands were on Ronan’s face, wiping tears from under his cheeks. “Hey, hey,” Adam was saying gently. “Shh. Ronan, Ronan, you’ve got to stop crying so you can tell me what’s wrong.” Adam ran his hands over Ronan’s head and the tops of his arms. He held Ronan’s hands. “Is Kass okay?”

Ronan sobbed and gripped Adam’s sleeves. “Ad-Adam,” he coughed. “Fuck.”

Adam sat against the wall and pulled Ronan to sit between his legs, wrapping his arms around Ronan and letting him cry. “Hey, hey.” Adam massaged Ronan’s scalp. He started to hum; a hard rock ballad by Shinedown that Gansey knew Ronan was particularly fond of--mostly because Adam hadn’t shut up about the Lynches since he’d been back.

After another ten minutes of on-and-off crying from Ronan, he calmed down enough to remove himself from Adam’s arms and wipe his face. “Sorry,” he said, his hands wrapped around a warm cup of tea. “I don’t usually fall apart like that. Actually, I never do. I just--” Ronan took a breath. “I love my daughter. I had her for two and a half months before he came back. That’s the longest I’ve ever had her without interruption. I felt like I had a real family, you know? Like it was all finally coming together.” He chuckled ruefully. “Then, in typical Kavinsky fashion, he just had to come and fucking ruin it.”

Adam nodded. “Let’s go back to your place, okay? Well talk about it, we’ll talk about the trial, I’ll tell you all about what we’re going to do next week, and I’ll even shave your head for you.” He ran his hand over Ronan’s head again. “You’re getting a little fuzzy. Come on.” Adam stood up and extended a hand to Ronan, who muttered curse words under his breath, but took it gratefully.

“Thanks, Adam,” Ronan said quietly. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“Oh, but I did.” Adam tugged Ronan out of Blue’s house.

Gansey and Blue looked after them, at their entwined hands. “Adam’s going to....” Gansey sighed. “Do you-?” he asked Blue.

“Are you kidding? They’ve been like this for weeks.” Blue shook her head. “Whipped. Both of them. It’s almost gross.”

Gansey, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, had to agree. It _was_ a little unsettling. Gansey chewed on his thumbnail. He was worried about what would happen to them once the case was over. Blue smacked him on the arm. “What?” he replied, voice distracted.

Blue rolled her brown eyes emphatically, “I said, Mr. _I-Can’t-Hear-You-Over-My-Neon-Boat-Shoes_ , how solid of a case does Adam really have?”

“Oh,” Gansey said. “Solid as a rock. His case is open-and-close, a real hook, line, and sinker. Oh, yes,” Gansey smiled. “Mr. Lynch will get his daughter back.”

Blue nodded. “And, one other thing: was Adam wearing a flannel the colors of the bisexual flag on purpose, or was that an accident?”

Oh, _that_. “Today, I think it was technically an accident, but he does have it on purpose. I bought it...” Gansey thought for a moment. How old were they? “Six years ago? Yes, I do believe it was six years ago, when we went to San Fransisco together for Spring Break. See, Adam is a firm bisexual.” Gansey crossed his arms. “However, I did not buy the flannel for him, I bought it for me.” Gansey sighed fondly at the memory. “He thought it clever to borrow it and never return it, even though we’ve lived in the same space for, what, nine years now.”

Blue stared at him. “You-you’re both-you’re both bi?”

“Oh, yes. And we live with another man. Noah. He’s pan.” Gansey raised an eyebrow at her. “Does that bother you?”

Blue shook her head. “No. I just have one question for you, Mr. Gansey--”

Gansey’s face remained blank, but his cheeks flamed to an impressive pink. “I will not be discussing that with you, Miss Sargent, as it is none of your business.”

She laughed. “That’s a yes!”

* * *

Adam sat across the table from one Ronan Lynch, who was looking quite dashing in his black suit pants and baby blue dress shirt, even if his tie was slightly crooked. Kassandra was sitting on his leg, coloring what seemed to be an orange frog. She was wearing a beautiful little sundress the same color blue as Ronan’s shirt. It brought out their eyes.

“Remember,” Adam said for the umpteenth time since they sat down. “You’ve got to relax. We’re going to have to talk about some tough stuff, but you’ve got to be completely honest with everyone in there. I know the judge and he’s got a soft spot for cases like these. Half of the jury will be sympathetic. You don’t have to worry, Ronan. Your case is a hook-line-and-sinker win. I guarantee it.”

Ronan nodded. “I just can’t lose her again, you understand.”

“Of course, Ronan,” Adam said. “And I’ve made absolutely sure that you won’t lose her again. I don’t make promises I can’t keep, and I promise you that you’ll get full custody of your daughter back.”

“I believe you,” Kassandra said happily. “I even drew you a frog for good luck!” She ripped the drawing neatly out of the book and handed it to him.

He looked at it with a smile on his face. “It’s beautiful, Kass,” he said. “I’ll keep it in my pocket during the trial.” He folded it into fourths and slipped it into the breast pocket of his light green dress shirt. He tapped the pocket. “It’’ll be right there the whole time.”

Kassandra beamed.

Adam checked his watch. “Alright, it’s time for us to go.” He stood. “Don’t worry, Mr. Lynch.” Adam felt a tug on his pant leg. He looked down to see Kass reaching up for him. He picked her up, supporting her on his left hip. “What is it, Sweetheart?”

She whispered in his ear. “You need a kiss for good luck, Lord Adam.” She kissed his cheek softly.

“Kass,” Ronan said, sounding a little embarrassed.

Adam held up his free hand. “Thank you, Lady Kassandra,” he whispered back to her.

“One last thing,” she whispered. “When all of this is over, I would very much like it if you would marry my Papa.”

Adam blushed his special shade of pink. “I,” _would like that very much_ , “don’t know if I can do that, Kass.”

“See?” she said brightly. “Lynches never lie, and neither do you. You have to become a Lynch, Adam.”

“We’ll see, Kass,” Adam said, setting her back on the ground. “But I’m not going to promise anything. I don’t--”

“Make promises you can’t keep,” Kass said brightly. “I know.”

* * *

Adam took a breath. It all came down to this. If it worked, the jury should rule in favor of Ronan. He stood. “One last witness, Your Honor. The prosecution calls Kassandra Kavinsky to the stand.”

The little girl hopped up from where she sat between her Uncle Declan and her Uncle Matthew. Adam opened the small door for her and she grabbed his hand. He lead her to the witness stand, boosting her onto his hip so that she could take the oath.

The Bailiff smiled at her offering her the Bible. She set her tiny hand on the book. “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?”

Kassandra nodded seriously, “I promise.”

The Bailiff smiled at her and nodded to the judge. Adam helped Kassandra into the seat. Adam leaned against the stand and grinned at Kassandra. She smiled back at him. “Hi, there.”

“Hi, Mr. Parrish!” she said brightly. “How are you today?”

Adam bit down on his tongue to resist melting at her cuteness. “I’m doing pretty well. How are you, Kass? Is it okay if I call you ‘Kass?’”

“Yep! My papa, _Ronan_ ,” she emphasized for clarification, “calls me Kass, so you can, too,” she told him. “I’m good,” she continued, just as brightly. “I just want to go home.”

Adam nodded. “Me too,” he whispered. Louder, he said, “I just have to ask you a few questions, Kass. Is that alright?”

She nodded again. “Yes sir, Mr. Parrish.”

“Alright,” Adam said. “We’ll go ahead and start with something easy, yeah? How old are you, Kass?”

She grinned, revealing a perfect set of little white teeth. “I’m four years old. I’ll be five in August, and I get to start school this year!” She looked proud of herself.

“That’s exciting!” Adam said. Kassandra nodded, a small smile on her face. Her eyes said, _but you already knew that_. “What’s your favorite thing to do?” he asked her.

“In the whole world?” Kass asked.

Adam nodded. “In the whole wide world.”

She thought for a moment, her little tongue poking out from between her lips. “My favorite thing in the whole wide world to do is read stories with my papa Ronan. Especially the ones he writes just for me.”

Adam’s eyebrows rose. “He writes stories for you?”

Kassandra nodded enthusiastically. “Mhmm. My favorite one is the one about the little mouse princess and her papa. They save a prince together at the end. The mouse king loves his princess very much.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Adam saw Ronan nod slightly, mouthing, “ _So very much_.” His chest tightened.

“That’s awesome,” Adam said, genuinely enthusiastic. “My dad never did that for me.”

Kass pouted a little. “Neither does mine,” she reminded him. “My _papa_ is the only one who does it.”

Adam hid his smile behind a nod. He was so proud of how well she was doing. If she kept going like she was, he’d win this case for the Lynches in no time. “Kass, can you tell me your parents’ names?”

“Yes,” Kassandra said. “My daddy’s name is Joseph Kavinsky and my papa’s name is Ronan Lynch.”

“And what’s your last name?”

Kassandra bit down on her lip. “Well, my daddy calls me ‘Little Lynch,’ but my papa says it’s Kavinsky, and I know that that’s true, but....” she trailed off.

“But, what?” Adam prompted gently.

“I don’t want it to be Kavinsky,” she said, a little sadly. “I want it to be my papa’s last name: Lynch.”

“Why’s that, Kass?”

She scratched at her hand nervously.

“It’s okay, Kass,” Adam said. “You can tell us.”

She fidgeted in her seat. “Well, Daddy has a new girlfriend every week, and sometimes he falls asleep in front of the television when it’s only three o’clock, and he leaves me at home with uncle Prokopenko or aunt Swan or biti Skov or uncle Jiang, and sometimes he doesn’t come home for a few days.” She sniffled quietly. “I think sometimes he forgets about me.”

Adam pulled a tissue out of his back pocket and handed it to her. “Here you go, Sweetie.” He waited for a moment while Kassandra wiped her face. “Just a couple more questions, okay?” Kassandra nodded. “So, if that’s what it’s like at your dad’s house, what is it like at your papa’s house?”

Kassandra visibly brightened. “It’s nothing like Daddy’s house. I get to stay with my papa sometimes. How long depends on Daddy.

“But, Papa reads and paints with me, and takes me to parks to play with my cousins, Uncle Mattie’s daughter, Aurora, and Uncle Declan’s sons, Niall and Nolan. Papa also takes me to his work. He works at his really cool bookstore--it’s called Kass’s Bookshelf and my papa owns it and he named it after me--and he lets me read in the office while he works. It’s awesome! And Papa cooks yummy food for me and we watch movies together and he colors with me and he teaches me math.

“I don’t really like math, but Papa said that learning math now will help me when I’m in school and Uncle Mattie says that Papa’s right. Also, I want to do well in school, so I do my math without complaining and Papa lets me pick dinner! Papa, and Uncle Declan, sometimes, are also teaching me Latin and because it’ll help me with really big words when I get old like them! Papa’s really good at Latin, but I’m not very good yet because I’m only with him sometimes and Daddy doesn’t know Latin.” She took a breath. “I have lots of fun at Papa’s house.”

Adam nodded. “Sounds like it. One last question from me, Kass, okay?”

“Okay,” she said.

“A lot of the time in cases like these, we forget who is being affected the most when custody is determined. Kids like you. So let me ask you this, Kass: which house do you want to go home to after this is over?”

Kassandra smiled brightly and said, “Papa Ronan’s house!”

Adam tapped on the stand. “Thank you, Kass.” He looked up at the judge. “No further questions, your Honor. The prosecution rests.”

Joseph Kavinsky’s defense attorney, Roland Williams, stood. He cleared his throat. “Uh, the defense rests, your Honor.”

Adam tapped the stand again. _Hook, line, and sinker._ He flashed a smile at Ronan Lynch. “Come on, then, Kass,” Adam said, walking around to the side of the witness stand and helping Kassandra out of her chair. “Let’s get you back to your uncles.” He set her on the floor and she grabbed his hand. He walked her back to her seat and returned to his. He knocked knuckles with Ronan under the table.

Adam and Williams gave their closing arguments to the jury and Judge Wong dismissed them while the jury deliberated. They were gone for ten minutes. When they walked back inside, Ronan straightened up and squeezed Adam’s wrist almost uncomfortably.

The foreman of the jury stood and declared that they were awarding full custody to Ronan and that Kavinsky had no rights to her. Ever. Kassandra beamed gloriously from her space between Declan and Matthew.

Ronan exhaled a massive breath of relief and a choked sob. “Oh thank God,”  he murmured, mostly to himself. He rested his face in his hands and wiped the tears from his face before anyone could see. Adam patted his knee.

The judge confirmed the ruling and added the changing of Kassandra’s last name to Lynch to the mix. If Ronan shed any more tears, neither he nor Adam said anything about it.

On the way out of the courtroom, Ronan scooped his daughter into his arms and supported her on his left hip. He shook Adam’s hand and promised to have his check in the mail by the end of the next day.

Adam thanked him and closed his briefcase, watching Ronan and his family walk out of the courtroom. He tapped his knuckles against his briefcase and trailed out of the room. He felt a tiny hand close over the shoulder of his suit coat. Adam looked over to see Kassandra and Ronan. Kassandra looked meaningfully at her father and then buried her face in Ronan’s shoulder, uncharacteristically shy. She hadn’t done that around him since the first time they met.

Ronan smiled at him, almost sheepishly. “ _Kass_ wants to know if you want to come to dinner with us tonight, Mr. Parrish.”

Adam smiled. “Tell Kass that I would like that very much.”

* * *

Adam Parrish was a lawyer, and a damn good one, too. He was well-versed in most of the different kinds of law, and thus could handle any case that was thrown at him. It had been three years since he’d graduated law school, and he hadn’t lost a case yet.

In other words, Adam Parrish was a rockstar.

Adam Parrish was at his desk typing up a report on the last case he’d worked on--a hook, line, and sinker child custody case he could have prosecuted in his sleep--when he heard a bit of a commotion. He looked up to see his boss, Dean Allen, trying to delay the progress of one Blue Sargent. This made Adam slightly nervous. If Blue was there, and stomping like that, something was very wrong. Probably with Ronan and Kass. Adam stood up and waved her through. When she made it to his desk, he murmured, “What is it, Blue?”

“Listen here, Parrish,” she said, jabbing at his chest with an orange fingernail. “If you think you can just leave after what you did, then you’re sadly mistaken.”

Adam’s eyebrows scrunched together. “Blue, what are you talking about?”

“Ronan and Kass,” she said, looking at him like he had sprouted another head.

“Of course you’re here about Ronan and Kass, Blue,” he said. “There’s no other reason you would be here. Are they okay?”

She shrugged a shoulder. “They’re better than they have been in a while.”

“Kavinsky isn’t bothering them, is he?”

“No, no--”

“Then why are you here, Blue?”

Blue smacked his upper arm. “Really? You spend three months with them, you live in their house for four weeks, and once the case is over, you just fucking leave? You don’t even call? You don’t drop by?”

“Why would I? Ronan and Kass need to start a new chapter in their lives, one separate from the whole mess with Kavinsky. That means one without me in it. I want to see them, but it’s better for all of us if I don’t.”

Blue set her jaw, her eyes blazing. “Kass keeps asking where her ‘popsicle’ is, okay? For a while, we thought she was asking about an actual popsicle. She was so insistent that Ronan went out and bought her a box of popsicles, but she wouldn’t eat them. Said that wasn’t what she meant, so Ronan finally asked her what the glitzy fuck she was talking about.”

She poked Adam’s chest. “She fucking pouted and said, ‘My popsicle. Mr. Parrish. Lord Adam. _Popsicle Adam_.’”

Adam chest clenched uncomfortably.

“Ronan told her that you probably weren’t going to come back and she didn’t come out of her room for two days, demanding that he, ‘bring Popsicle Adam home,’ that he tell the truth, reminding him that, 'Lynches don’t lie, Papa.’ It tore Ronan up. He couldn’t handle that from her. He broke down that night, talking about how he missed you, and that it was stupid because you were just his lawyer, and how he wasn’t sure how he was going to face her, knowing that you weren’t coming back.”

Adam slumped onto his desk.

She put her hands on her hips. “So here I am. Telling you that they love you and I know you love them, too; I could see it during the case, and I can see it now. So, if you don’t pay them a visit after you get off of work, I’ll kick your ass so hard you won’t know your ass from a hole in the ground, do you understand me?” She poked his chest again. “You don’t just get to make them fall in love you and leave, okay? That’s such a Kavinsky move that it’s disgusting and you and Ronan and Kass deserve fucking better than that.”

“Okay,” Adam said quietly. “I’ll come by after work, I promise, Blue. Don’t tell Ronan or Kass, though, okay? I want to surprise them.”

Blue nodded. “Good. I’ll see you tonight, then.” She gave him a hug and turned on her heel, walking out of the office.

‘After work’ for Adam Parrish that night meant that he pulled up to the Lynch residence at six thirty with a cake and a bouquet of primrose, red tulips, white carnations, and daffodils, with sprouts of Queen Anne’s lace. He walked up to the Lynches’ door and rang the doorbell.

There was the sound of an excited four year old, an audible sigh from Ronan, and a, “It’s probably just Aunt Blue,” before Ronan opened the green door to his house saying, “Blue, why in the world didn’t you just--” Ronan’s motion came to an abrupt halt as he saw Adam. “Let yourself in?” he finished quietly.

Adam smiled sheepishly. “I gave my key back, remember?”

Ronan collected himself and stuck his head back inside his house, saying, “Papa is going to be outside for just a minute, okay, Kass? Go clean up your markers.” He stepped outside, pushing Adam gently off of his stoop. Ronan stood on the last stair, making him closer to Adam’s height. “What are you doing here, Mr. Parrish?”

“Ah,” Adam blushed. “Funny story? I was trying to figure out how to come back here after the case was over, because, well, I--” Adam swallowed. “Anyway, I thought it would be better if I kept my distance so that you and Kass could move past Kavinsky and that whole chapter in your lives. I missed you both, but I thought I was doing you a solid, y’know?” He chuckled awkwardly. “Imagine my surprise when a tiny Asian woman storms my office and tells me that I am very wrong and that my being gone is hurting the people I’ve been trying very hard to help.”

Adam sighed softly. “Basically, I’m knocking on your door at six thirty at night with cake and flowers because I’m sorry and I--” Adam coughed. “I miss you and Kass and I’d really appreciate it if you’d allow me to be a part of your lives.” Adam bit his lip and looked at Ronan.

Ronan’s eyes were gentle and his hands were closing around the cake box. “Come inside,” Ronan said, grabbing the screen door and holding it open for Adam. “Quick. Before bugs get in.”

Adam found his feet and rushed inside, taking off his shoes and setting them on the rug just inside the door. “Thank you for this chance, Ronan.”

“You deserve it,” Ronan said, walking toward the kitchen. “You did, after all, get my daughter back for me.” He set the cake box on the table in the kitchen. “Let me have the flowers. They’re beautiful, by the way.” Ronan pulled a light blue vase from the top of the fridge--rising onto his tiptoes to do so, Adam noted with a soft grin--and filled it halfway full of water before setting it on the counter, under a window that led to the backyard. Ronan read the card that was attached to the flowers. _Lynch, I’m sorry,_ it read. _I’m an oblivious lawyer, not a romance guru. But, like always, I’ll certainly do my best. Love? Love, Parrish._ Ronan chuckled softly, setting them in the vase.

Adam fidgeted for a moment, fixing his tie and tugging on his sleeve. “Together,” he said, “the flowers are supposed to mean ‘family.’”

Ronan looked at Adam with the same gentle look. “Kass!” he called. “Wash your hands and come downstairs.”

“Okay, Papa!” she called back. Adam heard her little feet race across the floor and the water in an upstairs bathroom start. Adam closed his eyes and sighed softly. It was nice, being back.

He felt Ronan’s hand on his arm. Adam opened his eyes and looked into Ronan’s face. “Hi,” Adam said.

Ronan searched Adam’s face with his eyes. “Adam Parrish, if you’re going to be a part of my daughter’s life, I need to know you’re going to be a permanent fixture, do you understand? I can’t have a revolving door of father figures be a part of Kass’s childhood. I have to do what’s best for her. I think you’re what’s best for her, but I have to be sure.” He held Adam’s hands. “Can you be there for her whenever she needs you? You’re great with her Adam, absolutely wonderful. But, are you willing to be her father? My partner?”

“I’m a lawyer,” Adam said, “so, sometimes, I’m going to be busy and have to work late. But,” Adam said as Ronan’s face fell. “But, I’m going to do my very best to be Kassandra’s second permanent father figure. I’m going to have her back no matter what, Ronan.” He smiled at Ronan. “I adore Kassandra with every ounce of myself and I would be honored to raise your daughter with you.”

Ronan looked relieved. “I love you, Adam Parrish.”

“I love you, Ronan Lynch.” Adam set a hand on Ronan’s waist. “I’m going to kiss you now, okay?”

Ronan grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Their lips met with a mutual spark followed by a relieved melting into one another. Adam felt like he was flying.

Adam got hit in the legs by a tiny body. He let go of Ronan and picked Kass up, holding her on his hip. “Hey Kass!”

“Popsicle!” she said excitedly, throwing her arms around his neck. “I knew you’d come back,” she whispered.

“I couldn’t stay away from you or your Papa for very long,” Adam said.

A little sadly, Kass looked at him and said, “Are you going to leave again?”

“I’m going to have to, because I work, but never for as long as I did this time. I promise. Okay, Sweetie?”

She nodded. “Okay, Popsicle.”

Ronan smiled, pulling out plates. “Okay, _family_ ,” Ronan said, setting them on the table, “let’s have some cake.”

* * *

Blue and Gansey were babysitting Kass. Ronan and Adam were out on their thirtieth date in the last year. They had just walked out of the newest Marvel movie, and Ronan was talking excitedly about all of the awesome parts, which, “Face it, babe, the whole movie was fucking amazing.” They were walking down the street, hand in hand, to the restaurant where they’d shared their first meal together. Ronan had protested; Adam had insisted.

“Why are we eating here, Adam?” Ronan asked as they were sitting down. “They only serve Mexican here, and you don’t like Mexican.”

“I like Mexican just fine, Ronan. I just don’t like salsa.”

“That’s, like, seventy percent of Mexican food, Adam Parrish.”

Adam laughed at Ronan. “No it’s not, you dork.”

The waitress, who spoke three languages and knew Ronan’s order like the back of her hand, came over, asked Adam what he wanted to eat, and asked Ronan about forty-seven questions in Spanish that Adam didn’t understand because he’d foolishly taken French in high school and she was speaking entirely too fast. Ronan blushed and Adam was abruptly aware that she was talking about him. “ _Gracias_ , Maria,” Ronan mumbled, and she smirked at him before walking smugly away from the table.

“What was that about?” Adam asked, a grin on his face.

 _Hook_.

Ronan sighed softly. “She asked me when I was going to, ah, marry you. Heh.”

Adam raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. “Is that so?” He slid his hand in his pocket.

 _Line_.

Ronan nodded. “Yep. She did. Haha.” Ronan scratched at his collarbone, the way he always did when he was nervous.

“Well, I guess we’re just going to have to get married then,” Adam said, all casual. (His heart hammering away in his chest told him that he was not feeling casual. At all.)

Ronan looked up at him, cheeks pink, blue eyes wide. “W-What?” his voice was uncharacteristically high. He coughed, recovering, and his voice returned to normal, complete with slight gruffness and furrowed eyebrows. “What?”

 _Sinker_.

Adam grinned and pulled the box out of his pocket and opened it under the table. “I said,” he started, setting the open box on the tabletop and sliding it toward Ronan, “will you do me the honor of marrying me, Ronan Lynch?”

Ronan stared at the ring for a moment, his face completely blank. He then looked at Adam with slight confusion in his blue eyes. He looked back at the ring and picked up the box, plucking it delicately from it’s case, like he was afraid to break it. “Fuck you and everything you stand for, Adam Parrish,” he said, but there was no malice behind it, just a gentleness that Adam usually only saw when Ronan was with Kass.

Adam grinned. “Is that a, ‘yes?’”

“Of course it’s a yes, you beautiful dork lawyer that I love very much.” He slipped the simple silver band over the proper finger, his eyes shiny. “I love it and I love you and Kass is going to be so thrilled to have you as a dad, Adam.”

Adam coughed to cover the sound of his heart swelling. “Shit, Ronan.”

“This is so gay, Adam.” Ronan smiled.

“We are literally two men in a romantic relationship. We are two men who are engaged to each other, Ronan Lynch. This is exactly what gay is.”

“Still.”

They laughed.

* * *

Adam was loading the last of the boxes into the moving truck. He pulled the trailer door shut and locked it. He turned to look at their little townhouse. Gansey came to stand next to him. He clapped Adam on the shoulder. “Are you going to miss it?” he asked.

“Of course,” Adam said. “I spent the best six years of my life here with you, Gansey. But I’m ready to move forward.”

Gansey nodded. “Me too. I’m going to miss you.”

“Dude,” Adam snorted. “We’re going to be living next door to each other. In _townhouses_. Noah is already across the street. The only thing that will change is that you’re moving in with your hella eccentric perpetual girlfriend and I’m moving with with my hella fine fiance--who I’m getting married to in six months--and his adorable daughter and that the three of us won’t be able to sit together in our hella lame pink underwear on our couch and eat leftover half-avocado-half-sausage pizza and drink frozen coffee drinks and watch Spongebob and quote every line to each other on Sunday mornings.”

Gansey looked at him, startled. “You mean our entire dynamic is going to be disrupted because of this? I don’t know if I signed up for that, Adam. Is it too late to move back into our place? Quick! Unload the boxes. We can’t let true love destroy our _Czerpansey_  bromance! Call Noah. Reinstate the bro-T-three!”

Adam laughed hard enough he started to snort, grabbing at Gansey’s shoulder for stability. He sighed. “Yes, it’s too late, you goof. The townhouse is sold. Noah’s living with Henry Cheng. Blue already bought a larger bed so you’d both fit. Nudge, nudge; wink, wink.” Adam smirked at Gansey, who was flustered and blushing. “She painted your room mint green so that it was calming for you. There are strategic mint plants all over the house so that you’re never more than two steps away from a leaf.”

Adam turned to face Gansey and gripped him by the shoulders. “Listen, Gansey: she emptied the other half of her garage out so it could fit both The Bug and The Pig inside. She’s lined up a puppy for you to adopt and she’s willing to name him _Glendower_. Gansey, it is entirely too late for you to be having reservations about moving in with this woman.”

He turned them so that they were both facing the moving truck. Adam threw his arm over Gansey’s shoulders. “The Pig, all of your mint plants, and the woman of your dreams are waiting for you in Richmond. My dream, my very hot future husband, and a six-year-old girl who isn’t mine, but calls me her ‘Popsicle’ and insists I’m her dad anyway, are waiting for me in Richmond, right next door.” He clapped Gansey on the back, steering him toward the passenger side door. “So get in the fucking truck, Gansey.”

Gansey sighed softly, realizing Adam was right, and got into the truck while Adam walked around the front and slipped into the driver’s seat. He turned the key in the ignition and let the rumble of the engine fill his veins with excitement. “Are you ready?” Gansey asked him. Adam flipped his sunglasses down from his hair, over his eyes.

“They’ve got me, Gansey. For better, for worse; hook, line, and sinker.” Adam grinned at his best friend. “Let’s go home.”


End file.
